Chapter 16 #2
When the song ends, I wrap my arm around her lower back, anchoring her to me.
She glances up at my face, and with her heels on, she hardly has to tilt her head back to look me in the eye.
She’s out of breath, gently panting tiny gasps of air that hit my lips like a caress.
Her big brown eyes are so alive with exhilaration and happiness, and as I stare into them, I feel like I’m drowning.
She’s leaning into me, but I don’t want a drunken kiss on the dance floor to ruin our friendship, or whatever this is, so I insist we get some water and I hold her hand as I pull her behind me toward the bar.
There’s very little space there, but she wedges herself into an opening between two barstools. The guy to her left looks over at her with open appreciation, so I come up behind her and rest my hands on either side of her body, boxing her in and giving him a “back the fuck off” look.
I lean down to ask her if she wants water or something else, and when I do, she presses her ass back into me.
It’s innocent enough that it might have been an accident, but then when she feels how hard I am against her, she looks over her shoulder at me, raises an eyebrow, and tilts her hips so her ass runs along the length of me.
I groan into her ear as I rest my chest against her shoulder. “You’re killing me.”
“I highly doubt that,” she says, as she brings her hand behind her and to caress my abs through my thin T-shirt, her fingers running lightly over each individual muscle.
My hips press forward into her involuntarily right as the bartender approaches. “Two bottles of water please,” I say as I reach into my pocket for my wallet. I slap down a twenty, grab the two bottles in one hand, and wrap my hand around Sierra’s lower back as I guide her toward the exit.
“Where are we going?” she asks, leaning into me when we stop at the coat check.
“To our room.” I hand her one of the water bottles.
She looks down at it as she twists the cap, and over the music I barely hear her say “We should probably talk about that.”
“We can talk when we get there,” I tell her.
The cool desert air is a welcome relief on our overheated skin.
We walk in silence for a block with Sierra tucked under my arm as we take in the lights, but then the cold night air sends shivers over her body and we stop in front of the fountains at the Bellagio to put our jackets on.
I’ve always thought of Vegas as dirty, a little seedy, fun in an ostentatious way.
But walking along the crowded streets with all the lights and a little buzz, with Sierra pressed up against me, it feels romantic.
When we get back to our hotel, I toss our empty water bottles in the trash and as we stand waiting for the elevator with my arm wrapped around her shoulders, I start playing with her hair.
Her arm’s been wrapped around my waist, and now her fingers dip between my T-shirt and jeans to find my skin.
She drags her nails lightly across my lower back and over my hip bone before the pads of her fingers run along the waistband of my jeans.
Every part of my skin feels electrified, the heat of her touch spreading through me.
We step onto the elevator alone and after pressing the button for our floor, I turn toward her at the same time she turns to me.
As her arms encircle my neck, I can’t help but respond—even though I said we were going to talk and we certainly haven’t yet.
Her lips meet mine in an explosion of lust and passion, our mouths opening and her tongue slanting against mine.
This is no gentle first kiss, it’s the precursor to something much more.
I’ve barely started to explore her mouth when the elevator bell dings to let us know we’re at our floor, and she grabs me by my belt buckle and walks backward, pulling me out of the elevator.
It’s the sexiest and most un-Sierra thing I’ve ever seen.
In the hallways I kiss her again, gently this time, my lips taking time to get to know hers. They are exactly as kissable as I first imagined. “C’mon,” she says, taking my hand and leading me down the hallway.
I laugh and tell her she’s going the wrong way, then I lead us to our door. We both stand there and look at it for a second, knowing that when we cross that threshold, things will probably change. Hell, they already have changed.
Sierra glances up at me. “You have both our keys.”
I let us in, and the second the door is closed, she’s got her arms wrapped around my neck again. I turn us so her back is against the wall and she wraps one of her legs around my waist. I push into her, locking her in place with my hips. She rocks hers against me, clearly enjoying the friction.
I give her a chaste kiss on the nose. “Okay, talk.”
“We can talk later,” she mumbles, her voice thick with longing as she puts her hand on the back of my head to bring my lips to hers.
I pull my head back, but keep my body pressed up against hers, enjoying the feel of her soft breasts against my chest and the way her hips haven’t stopped thrusting against mine. “No, we talk first, so we don’t fuck this up. You know how badly I want you, right?”
“I do now.”
I furrow my eyebrows. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“You’re so hot and cold. Half the time, it feels like you’re trying to push me away.”
“Because I’m not what you want,” I say. I think it’s important that we establish that now, before this goes any further. I can’t be the kind of guy she’s looking for.
“Really? Do tell me—what is it I want?” Her voice is teasing and sarcastic at the same time.
“Stability. Companionship. Forever.”
“Maybe that’s not what I want right now. You’re only around for another week, Beau. I’m not deluding myself that this will last longer than that.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I’ll take what I can get while you’re still here,” she says, trailing her fingers through my hair and teasing my scalp with her nails.
In any other situation ever, these are the exact words I’d need to hear before taking a woman to bed. So why do they feel so wrong coming out of Sierra’s mouth? She doesn’t seem to care if I stay or if I go, and that bothers me.
“What is that look?” she asks.
Shit.
“I’m just worried we’re going to mess up our friendship,” I say, hoping that’s believable.
“Beau, this is already past friendship,” she says, and rocks her hips against me again just to prove her point, “at least, for me it is. If you don’t feel the same way—”
My mouth crashes into hers, because of course I feel the same way, and I’d be an idiot to let this moment pass. There’s no way I could. I’ve known since we were dancing at the bar that we were leading up to this, and it’s what I’ve fantasized about for weeks.
Her kisses are insistent and when my hands move from her hips down to cup her ass, she uses the leg that’s wrapped around my hips to anchor me to her.
“I need this jacket off you,” I tell her, and she unwraps her leg from my waist, sliding the jacket off her shoulders.
I slide mine off and throw it on the edge of the bed, then reach behind her, capturing her wrists behind her in one of my hands, admiring how her breasts protrude when her shoulders are back like this.
I use my teeth to slide the strap of her dress off her shoulder, but the dress is too tight across her chest and doesn’t fall away from her breast like I’m hoping.
She senses my frustration because she frees her hands from my grasp and reaches up to pull at the zipper at her back. The entire dress falls to her hips, and with one small tug from her, it pools at her feet. I take a step back to pull my shirt over my head and get a good look at her.
“Holy shit, Sierra,” I say on an exhale, one big long sigh.
Somehow she’s even more gorgeous now than she was when she walked out of the bathroom in nothing but that damn lacy underwear earlier this evening.
I let my eyes track down her entire body.
It’s probably the way her sweat-dampened skin glistens in the low light of the room and the way those damn heels give her at least an extra three inches and make her legs look impossibly long.
I step toward her and she puts her hands on my bare shoulders and fixes her eyes on my lips.
But I don’t kiss her again, instead I take a moment to appreciate how the stream of light shining through the crack in the curtains illuminates her body, the way her silky hair is highlighted by the light, the way I can see her heart pounding in her chest and her pulse at the base of her neck.
I take my hands and run them along her sides slowly, from her armpits down to her hips, letting the heels of my hands gently skim the sides of her breasts.
She shivers and arches her back with a soft grunt, and I can’t resist her any longer.
I cup my hands under her breasts reverently.
“You have the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen,” I tell her.
“Let’s not be thinking about anyone else’s breasts right now, huh?” she chides.
“Pretty sure I’ll never think about any but yours for the rest of my life.”
She lets out a small, throaty laugh, but I’m not joking.
Sierra is in my head in a way that no other woman ever has been.
I brush my thumbs across her nipples and watch as she arches her back further, pushing her body into mine.
I dip my head down, letting my tongue lave over her nipple, then circling it with the tip of my tongue.
My name slips off her lips, and it’s part gasp, part sigh.
It’s a hundred times sexier than the way she said my name last night on the phone and I’ve changed my mind—this is the only way I want her to say my name from here on out.
I suck her into my mouth and her hands are at my buckle, fumbling to loosen the belt, then she’s got the button and zipper undone and is pushing my jeans to the floor.
I toe off my shoes and step out of my pants without letting my mouth or my hands leave her body.